


Nearer to Thee

by concertigrossi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Capsicle, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations, Read the notes if you're not sure, Tagged "No Archive Warnings Apply" because of the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concertigrossi/pseuds/concertigrossi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers meant to die when he crashed that plane into the ice. It's just that his new body didn't entirely cooperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearer to Thee

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr, someone (step up and take credit, if you read this) mentioned that, in "Avengers," Steve is thawed out while lying flat on his back, a position not commonly associated with people who have been through a plane crash. It was further surmised that that fact implied that he wasn't completely knocked out by the impact, that he had time to take stock and contemplate the logical conclusion to his situation.
> 
> This is a fic exploring that.
> 
> With thanks to Jep, ishymaria and gth694e for beta-reading, and to gth694e for the suggestion of the title.

The white just kept getting closer.

_Keep talking. If you don't keep talking, Peggy will get upset. Gotta keep talking._

His eyes focused on the ice. His hands kept the stick all the way forward. He concentrated on her voice and the lies so blatant they might as well be truths. The sum of his ambition for the last few seconds of his life was to keep Peggy Carter from getting upset.

And then he stopped, cut off by the crash, and the cold, and the black.

 

….

 

Waking up, now that was a surprise.

His head hurt. His head hurt a lot, in a way that it hadn't since he'd gotten the serum. He tried to stand and barely managed. He tried to focus, but no matter what he still saw two of everything.

_A concussion. I've got a concussion. I didn't think that was possible._

The fuselage juddered as the ice melted below the still-hot engines. Steve stumbled, then fought to regain balance.

He took stock.

The displays provided a little light: barely enough to make out shapes, and even then he didn't give the auxiliary power all that long to last. The nose of the plane had survived the impact – mostly – but God knew how far under the ice the crash had driven it.

_The bombs didn't go off. You could have tried to land this near civilization after all._

His gorge rose at the thought. He swallowed down some bile. He tried, slowly and haltingly, to gather up any equipment that looked salvageable. They'd be looking for him for sure. Howard and Peggy wouldn't let him freeze up here. They'd find him, if he could just rig up some kind of signal. This was more Dernier's specialty, but he could jerry-rig something and they'd rescue him and get the plane and its cargo to the SSR.

He managed to wire up his radio to the dash. It wouldn't be much, but he could tap out an SOS for a while. God, he was getting so cold...

He got a few dots and dashes in when the dashboard's power flickered and went out.

“Shit. Shit!”  _I'm going to die. It's cold and dark and I'm going to die._

He grabbed the flashlight off his belt. It gave off a dim red glow – another casualty of the crash. There was nothing here. He was out of options.

He tore around for a minute or two, desperately searching for anything he might have overlooked, but no help was to be found. The plane settled some more, lurching sharply and throwing him off his feet as it sank further into the ice. He clumsily stood again, and started to sing.

“Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee...”

He laughed, a little hysterically.

“You're cracking up, Rogers. Pull your shit together. This ain't the fucking Titanic.”

Steve turned around to see Bucky in his full dress uniform, as he'd been that day at the Exhibition. “Well, there's an iceberg...”

“And a crash caused by a thick donkey who wouldn't listen to the warnings? All right, I take that back, maybe this is the goddamned Titanic.”

“You're not here, you're dead. If I'm seeing you, I really have started cracking up.”

“Yeah, you made it all of two weeks without me there to save your sorry ass. Typical.”

“Maybe I should try to tunnel out. M-maybe I should try to make a break for it.”

“You're in the middle of the Arctic ocean. They don't even have maps for everything up here yet. Stay with the plane. They'll find you.”

“They won't... they won't find me in time.”

Bucky took off his hat and turned it in his hands. “No, Steve, they probably won't.”

This was the way Steve's world would end. He'd chosen this way for his world to end. But when he'd made this decision, it had seemed so much easier to face death with a bang than a whimper.

The penetrating cold, on top of the concussion, was starting to take its toll. Steve's teeth started to chatter, and the shivers were harder to fight. Steve sat down heavily on the floor.

“I'm dr-dressed in my best and d-d-determined to go down as a gentleman.” he stuttered.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Shoulda been the tights.”

“I liked the tights.”

“You would. Did they make you feel pretty?”

“Emph-phas-s-sized my g-girlish figure,” said Steve. The shudders were becoming non-stop now.

“Just lie down, Steve. Go to sleep. It'll be all right,” said Bucky softly.

“Did it hurt, Bucky? When you died?”

“Not sure I can answer that, Steve. Honest to God, I'm not all that sure I'm dead.”

“If you're still alive, y-you g-g-gotta f-find me.”

“You bet your ass I will, or my name's not James Buchanan Barnes.”

That was good. That was good. Steve was getting so tired. But they'd find him. They'd find him and bring him home, and bury him in Brooklyn.

At this point, that was all he could ask for.


End file.
